


All That You've Got, Skin to Skin

by oneforyourfire



Series: *Miracles in December* [6]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9277184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: But Baekhyun likes this more—likes Joonmyun touching him more





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from ["dangerous woman"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WbCfHutDSE)
> 
> warning: fingering, i don't know this ship???????

Sometimes Joonmyun likes to watch Baekhyun touch himself—fuck himself—utterly _rapt_ as he whispers all these filthy, breathy praises about how pretty Baekhyun's fingers look, how fucking _good_ he is at taking fingers, taking cock, how he was _made_ to be fucked.

Baekhyun likes that, too—being put on display, being appreciated, being fucking worshipped, making Joonmyun fall apart as he too falls apart.

But Baekhyun likes this more—likes Joonmyun touching him more, and it only takes another soft breathy _hyung_ for Joonmyun to curl another finger inside of him, praising breathlessly still as Baekhyun melts into the sheets with a drawn out moan.

Joonmyun's fingers are wider than his, longer, rougher, less delicate, less beautiful, and Baekhyun likes the drag of pencil callouses along his skin, the contrast between the firm, forceful way that Joonmyun pins his hips to the bed and the tender, tender way he eases him open slow and thorough and sweet. He likes the way that Joonmyun can’t seem to decide between watching Baekhyun's face, his cock, the way Joonmyun's fingers disappear inside of him.

Baekhyun arches his spine, lets the precome smear across his stomach, tilting so it glitters in their bedroom's fading sunlight, and Joonmyun thrusts his fingers faster and just right, that dragging sort of rough they get whenever Joonmyun wants to make him whimper, wants to make him shudder and beg.

Baekhyun does, fists his fingers in Joonmyun's hair just for good measure.

“Hyung,” he whispers, and Joonmyun thrusts even faster, curls on the retreat, slippery and hot and breathtakingly thorough. The fingernails of his other hand bite into the delicate skin along his Baekhyun’s hips, solid, arresting as Baekhyun quivers helplessly through the touch, the _stretch_. “ _Hyung_.” An intentional, searching curl, and stars burst in the edges of Baekhyun's vision, heavier tremors wrack through his body. He struggles briefly—sharply against the bruisingly tight, aching pressure of Joonmyun’s fingers. Baekhyun’s own fingers rake along Joonmyun’s scalp. “ _Hyu—ung_.” A whimper now, louder, breathier. And Joonmyun's responding groans quakes through his oversensitized body. 

Baekhyun’s still on display like this, still appreciated, still worshipped, still praised, too in breathy little rasps of _Baekhyun, fuck, gorgeous, perfect_.

And it's more than enough, has him tugging desperately at the soft hair near the base of Joonmyun's skull as he bows into the sweet aching, aching caress. Groaning, Joonmyun shifts atop him, and Baekhyun is pinned by his body and his gaze and the desperate desire for more more _more_. Hard, Joonmyun’s cock catches on Baekhyun's abs, glittering there, too. Pinned as he is, Baekhyun grinds forward against it, smearing more, glittering more. “Touch me," he says, and Joonmyun moans through the follow through, stroke tight and fast and hot hot hot, his fingers still pushing pushing pushing. Baekhyun moans, too, head tossing back with the force of it, and he claws at Joonmyun’s tense shoulders as Joonmyun drops hard, close-mouthed kisses to his chest, his throat, finger fucks him just how Baekhyun likes. 

Another desperate scrape, a lower, breathier, more ruined _hyung, please_ , and Joonmyun is lurching forward to kiss him. 

The angle is slightly compromised like this, strained and awkward, but Baekhyun loves the taste of his mouth, the shivery warmth of his moans, the softness of his skin, loves how he can feel the pained pulse of Joonmyun's cock like this, grinding forward mindlessly every time that Baekhyun clenches around his fingers, whimpers his names.

And fuck, he loves this. Just like this.

He moans—helplessly loud, and Joonmyun moans, too, nipping at the corner of his mouth as he spreads his fingers, spearing and curling and breaking press by press. He smiles when Baekhyun sobs into his mouth, awfully smug and insistent as he taps and drags over Baekhyun’s prostate. Sharp flares of dizzying pleasure sear through his body at the touch, recklessly loud moans dropping from his lips, too loud, he knows. Their walls are thin. The neighbors will complain.

But let them hear. Let them know. That Baekhyun loves it just like this.

Fuck fuck _fuck, hyung_.

"You're perfect," Joonmyun insists into his sternum, fucking, kissing, breaking, breaking, breaking. "You're beautiful. You're— _fuck_ —"

Baekhyun lifts his legs to drag him closer, ankles locking around his ass. And he digs his nails into the nape of Joonmyun's neck, over his shoulders, grounding himself, clambering and clamoring for more as the pleasure surges sharply through his body.

It’s just just just shy of too much, just that sweet sting of almost pain, the deliberate, deliberate way that Joonmyun presses against his prostate, the intentional, biting drag of his fingernail over the crown of Baekhyun’s cock, and fuck, the fleeting graze of his cock, pulsing in time with Baekhyun’s moans.

He likes him this loud, likes him this wrecked, likes him this pliant and ruined and gasping, likes touching him like this and reducing him to this. And fuck, Baekhyun loves this, too—loves this _most_.

The pleasure surging through his veins, pooling in his gut, pulsing through his limbs is honey-thick and white-hot, thicker and hotter and more devastating with every dragging, deliberate press of Joonmyun's fingers, every devastating, deliberate stroke, every distracted, aborted little moan pressed against his sweaty, goose-bumped skin. 

And Baekhyun feels most appreciated, most worshipped, most perfect like this, helpless and mindless and reckless and gasping and shuddering and writhing and whimpering and wanting and wanting and wanting, being wanted wanted wanted.

He bites down hard on Joonmyun’s throat when he comes, clutching desperately to steady himself as his body seizes and breaks and breaks and breaks. He’s reduced to breathless tremors, hitching gasps, boneless, useless limbs, reduced to nothing nothing nothing but pure, sharp pleasure. Joonmyun smooths tingly touches down his sides, soothes him through it with softer, sweeter touches, softer, sweeter words.

“So good, Baekhyun,” he says—just exactly like when he watches Baekhyun fuck himself ragged. “So beautiful.” And lazy, languid affection thrums through Baekhyun's veins.

Clumsy, glowing, glowing, Baekhyun gropes down to stroke him off, and Joonmyun chases the shaky heat of his palm, kissing him again, staccato little pecks along Baekhyun’s throat, jaw, collarbone, chin as he fucks down into it the stroke, insistent and hot and breathless.

Joonmyun’s so much quieter and softer as he comes, moaning shakily as he trembles in Baekhyun’s arms, collapses fully on top of him. Baekhyun clutches at him, holds him steady and tight and insistent to keep him near, force him even _closer_ , but Joonmyun doesn't put forth any sort of fight, laughing shakily as he nuzzles into his throat, lets himself melt into Baekhyun’s body.

Baekhyun sifts his fingers through his hair, humming then dragging softly over the faint indentation of his teeth at Joonmyun’s throat. Joonmyun smarts the fleeting touch before pressing into it with a soft sigh.

They’re both sticky and sweaty and filthy, but warm and sated and together—entangled like they were meant to be, how Baekhyun likes it most, and Baekhyun loves this too fucking much to even think of pulling away.

**Author's Note:**

> i guess this is miracles in january now


End file.
